


In The Studio

by eleanor_lavish, thepsychicclam



Series: Valiant Effort [21]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-18
Updated: 2009-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleanor_lavish/pseuds/eleanor_lavish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valiant Effort finishes recording their CD and the label has a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Studio

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Clammy.

“No no no!” Bean screamed, waving his arms around frantically. Orlando took his headphones off wearily. He jumped when he heard Billy slam his set down beside him.

They were all tense. It had been nothing but studio work for five days straight. They stumbled into the studio each day at eight a.m. and out by seven p.m. Viggo brought pizza, burgers, sushi to their apartment afterwards as they took a small break. Then while Viggo and Sean watched silently, the band practiced as neighbors beat on the walls and screamed. Until well after midnight every night, they played and sang until their fingers were raw.

“Do you actually think you’re getting anywhere with this kind of shite?” Bean yelled through a microphone from the sound room. He opened the door separating the two rooms. “Dom, you’re flat. Elijah, you need to actually _sing_ into the microphone. Billy, you’re supposed to be the leader of this group! And don’t even get me started on you, Orlando. It’s a good thing you’re attractive.” Bean slammed the door behind him.

“He’s such a fucking arse,” Dom whispered. Orlando glanced up through window where Bean was talking to the producer, a bloke from Australia named David Wenham while Sean paced nervously behind them. David was really encouraging and the only thing getting Valiant Effort through this CD process. Bean was shouting, but Orlando couldn’t hear anything he was saying. He was glad.

“We’re almost done. Just try to fix what he said,” Orlando said. Billy turned to him and gave him a weak smile.

“I’m really glad this is our last day,” he said as Orlando put a reassuring hand on his thigh.

“The CD sounds great so far. Every great band goes through this. It’s just our trudge to stardom.” Orlando flashed a bright grin he didn’t truly feel. But it got its desired effect – Billy laughed.

“You’re so full of shite, you know that?” He ran a hand through his hair, sticking up wildly. “But I’m glad you can spout the bullshit we need to hear.”

“What else am I good for?” Orlando said sardonically. Billy draped an arm around Orlando’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

“You’re the heart of this band,” Billy whispered.

“All right. Let’s see if we can get through an entire song without fucking up,” Bean said through the microphone.

Orlando pulled away from Billy and put his headphones back on. David gave them the sign and they waited patiently, heard the opening chords from Billy’s guitar in their ears. Orlando opened his mouth, let the words flow past his lips. Dom joined him, harmonizing perfectly this time, not too flat or too sharp. They paused as Billy belted out his lyrics, loud, proud, and sure. Elijah joined them on the chorus, loud enough to be heard.

After the song ended, Orlando was shaking. He knew that was perfect, incredible even. He looked around at the other guys, similar expressions gracing their faces. Orlando turned his smile towards Bean and David. Bean was scowling.

“I guess that will do,” he said through the microphone. He turned around and walked further into the room, and David gave them an enthusiastic two thumbs up. Sean was in the corner talking on his cell phone.

Bean opened the door and walked towards Billy, throwing a stack of papers onto a stand beside him. All the guys crowded around as Billy picked them up and looked through.

“Those are the specifics on the CD. Gets released in a few weeks, but the record company has all rights not to release it.”

“Why would they not release it?” Dom asked.

“Breach of contract. If the label doesn’t have the money at the time. Realize gentlemen, that it is technically your music on the CD. We’re selling your faces, your voices. But this isn’t your CD, it’s the label’s record.” Bean turned around and walked towards the door. “Take that home, look over it, and bring it to the party tomorrow night.”

“Party?” Elijah asked, gathering his bag and jacket.

“We’re throwing a party in your honor promoting your upcoming CD. You’re going to perform, charm everyone there, and be the spectacular Valiant Effort that I know is there somewhere. My house, seven tomorrow.” With that, he walked out of the studio.

“Fucking cunt,” Dom spat. “I hate that bastard.”

“Dom, he’s the reason we’re here, don’t forget that,” Billy said half-heartedly.

“Fuck that. We have talent. He bloody knows it, you can tell. Cunt.” Dom continued muttering as he stormed out of the studio.

“Good job, guys,” David said as they walked out of the room. Billy turned and shook his hand. “The album’s going to be great. All this stuff is amazing.”

“Thanks a lot for the confidence,” Billy said. “We appreciate all your hard work on this CD.”

“No problem. I love making CDs for fresh talent.”

Elijah plopped down on the worn couch against the wall. His dirty, black converse sneakers were spreading dirt all over the cushions. Orlando sat on the arm and pushed his feet on the floor. Billy stood beside David as they started listening to the tracks, mixing sounds together, an occasional _no, try a stronger bass line_ or _yes, that’s perfect!_ overheard. Sean was talking heatedly with someone about booking them a gig at a pretty decently sized club from what Orlando could understand. Orlando looked down at Elijah, already fast asleep. The boy could sleep anywhere, and with the hours he kept, it’s no wonder. Actually, Orlando was feeling rather tired himself. He had just settled in the corner of the couch Elijah had his feet propped up on earlier when Dom walked up to him.

“Fancy a fag?” Dom nodded his head in direction of the door.

“Are you offering yourself?” Orlando smirked. Dom grabbed his crotch and gave Orlando the finger. Orlando laughed and followed Dom out onto a small smoking patio. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered them to Orlando, who took one and placed it between his lips. “When did you start smoking?”

“You can blame Elijah for that one,” Dom said, inhaling and passing the cigarette lighter to Orlando. Orlando opened his mouth to say something, but figured it better to leave it alone. The situation between Elijah and Dom was fucked up enough without him intervening. “So, what the fuck is up with you and Bean? Are you really shagging the cunt?”

Orlando stared at him. Well, Dom was never one for beating around the bush. He took a thoughtful drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly, watching as the blue wisps curled into the sky.

“Yeah. I am.” Orlando left it at that. He didn’t really want to talk about this, but knew Dom wouldn’t give it up so easily.

“Why, exactly? He treats you like shit. Fucking cunt.”

“You know you’ve called him that about twenty times in the last thirty minutes,” Orlando pointed out.

“Cunt. Now, stop avoiding the question.” Dom leaned against the brick wall, crossing his arms in front of him, cigarette dangling close to his elbow. Orlando looked down at his feet and kicked around an empty bottle.

“What would you do if he told you to fuck him or you may never make it?” Orlando avoided Dom’s eyes and kept talking. “It won’t go on forever. And please, please don’t tell Billy.” Orlando looked up at Dom then, eyes pleading. “Promise me, Dom.”

Dom ran a hand through his already unkempt hair. “I’m not going to say anything. You know that’s not like me. I still think he’s a cunt, and now I hate him even more. Fucking cunt.”

Orlando tossed his cigarette on the ground and wrapped his arms around Dom’s neck. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

Dom patted his back reassuringly. “No problem.”

Dom finished his cigarette and they returned to the studio, Dom helping Billy mix a few more tracks while Orlando curled up on the other end of the couch and dozed. But soon they were outside again in the cool New York air.

“Guys, we just recorded our first CD!” Elijah danced around the sidewalk. Orlando laughed at him, his first real laugh in days. It was over. They had a CD, well, _almost_ had a CD. Songs they had written together. Cried, sweated, and fought about, poured their joy and pain into. Each member had a song special to them, that they had written the lyrics to themselves. Elijah’s was of course heavily influenced by emo, just painful and suicide inducing. Dom was a little more over the board, influences from so many different styles compacted into one song. Billy’s was completely raw and honest. Orlando’s wasn’t as raw and honest (or good) as Billy’s, but more straightforward than Dom or Elijah’s.

Orlando wasn’t sure what he had written about, honestly. It started out about Billy. Love and pain. But it grew into so much more. His father, the band, his life. A song about confusion, desperation, things you can’t help and others you aren’t proud of. The song was him, just like each of the others was theirs. His four and a half minutes to let the world really know how he felt.

*

Orlando looked up from the movie he was watching. Elijah padded into the living room, scratching his stomach. He blinked a few times and adjusted his glasses.

“Whatcha doin up?” Elijah asked as he walked into the kitchen. Orlando heard the refrigerator door open and close, and Elijah returned to the living room, opening a Dr. Pepper.

“Couldn’t sleep. A little too wound up from today, I guess.” Orlando patted the cushion beside him and Elijah plopped down. “What about you?”

“Had to piss.”

“So you get a Dr. Pepper?” Orlando teased.

“Why aren’t you at Liv’s?”

“Didn’t really feel like going.” Orlando sighed, turned the television down. He hadn’t spent the night at Liv’s in over a week. He had been working late nights at the restaurant, trying to make up for all the time he was missing for the band, and rehearsing late and recording early the past few days.

“Ah. Nice to have you around again,” Elijah said, taking a sip of his drink. “Now that Dom’s gone all the time.”

Orlando studied Elijah out of the corner of his eye. He worried about Elijah, just like someone would worry about a little brother. Elijah was still young, a lot younger than all them. Orlando wouldn’t call him fragile, but he was a lot more vulnerable than the rest of them. His real life experience consisted of high school torment, not hard days and nights on the streets. He was spared that, and Orlando was glad. But he didn’t have the same kind of thick skin that Dom, Billy, or he did. Elijah wore his emotions on his sleeve, told his story through his eyes. He didn’t hide that he was hurting, that his heart was breaking. Orlando saw it, Billy saw it, and worse of all, Dom ignored it.

Orlando put an arm around Elijah’s shoulder and pulled him close. Elijah settled his head on Orlando’s shoulder and Orlando wrapped his arms around him tightly.

“Orlando?”

“Mmmhmm?” Orlando hummed.

“You and Billy?” Elijah asked quietly. Orlando shifted nervously, putting his feet up on the worn coffee table then back off. “You don’t have to answer. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, its okay. I don’t know. Honestly, just don’t know.”

“You were right,” Elijah said. Orlando looked down at his profile.

“About what?”

“Dom.”

Orlando pressed a kiss to Elijah’s head and pulled him even tighter. “Don’t say that. Love isn’t about being right or wrong.”

“Then what is it about?”

“Not giving up and not killing yourself in the process.”

“Yeah. That’s the tricky part.” Orlando pressed another kiss against Elijah’s temple and closed his eyes.

*

Elijah rolled down the window of the studio provided limo. Air blew in, causing a few papers to float around.

“Elijah, close the window!” Billy said, trying to grab the papers before they flew out of the open window.

“I will in a minute.” Elijah leaned his head against the doorframe, letting the air cascade over his face. “I miss driving.”

“I don’t. Can you imagine driving in New York traffic?” Dom said.

“No, not in city traffic. Out on back roads, windows down, sun setting as you drive fast, friends in the seats beside you, great music pounding out of the speakers.” Elijah smiled sadly. Orlando watched him, realized how much the three of them didn’t know about Elijah. They’d only known him a little over a year, and most of that time had been consumed by school, work, and music. He never would have guessed that Elijah liked to drive. What else were they missing?

“I guess in a small town that’s all you have to do,” Dom said. Elijah nodded.

“We should buy an old convertible. And one night, just drive until there are no lights around and we can put in a CD and sing as loud as we want for as long as we want.” Elijah sighed and rolled the window up.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Orlando said.

“Does Bean really expect us to play in his house?” Dom asked, picking at the frayed ends on the bottom of his jeans.

“Damn house is bigger than some of the clubs we’ve played in,” Orlando pointed out. “I’m sure there could be a small stage set up in the foyer or something. All we need room for really is Elijah’s drum kit.”

The limo pulled up in front of Bean’s house and they stepped out, following a short woman with curly hair inside. Just like Orlando predicted, a small stage was set up along the right foyer wall, just big enough for four bodies and a set of drums.

People milled about in various states of evening wear, some prancing around in Versace, others wearing the latest trends of tight, short, and barely there. The guys looked around at each other, dressed in their usual garb – worn and frayed jeans, graphic tees, and scuffed shoes. Orlando glanced at Billy’s scuffed black boots and the hole in his plaid shirt, Dom’s “I am Big Brother” t-shirt, Elijah’s dirty converse, and his own faded red t-shirt and felt more out of place than he ever had.

“I didn’t know we were supposed to dress up,” Orlando whispered as the four of them huddled together. “I think we should go home and change.”

“And never come back,” Elijah added.

“Come on, we’re rockstars.” Dom squared his shoulders and strode across the foyer, head held like he owned the place. Orlando, Elijah, and Billy all looked at each other and followed Dom.

“Can I help you?” a large security guard with a deep, booming voice asked, coming to stand in front of them.

“We’re here to sing,” Dom answered.

“Do you have any identification?”

“We’re Valiant Effort.” Dom looked at him like it was the most obvious thing ever. The man, however, did not look convinced.

“I’m afraid if you don’t have some form of identification I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The security guard extended an arm and walked towards then, the guys shuffling backwards. Orlando tripped over a cord and fell backwards, but Billy caught him before he tumbled to the floor.

“You can’t do this to us! The bloody party is in our honor!” Dom’s voice got louder, and Elijah put a hand on his arm to calm him. Dom’s eyes were narrowed slits as he faced the guard, standing a good five inches above him.

“Sir, if you don’t leave, I will have you escorted off the property.”

Dom took a step forward as the same short lady with the curly hair walked up.

“What is going on here!” she rapped impatiently. “Lonnie, for God’s sake, this is Valiant Effort, the band. And you four, get on stage. You’re supposed to be playing in a few minutes.”

Dom smirked at the guard and gave him the finger. Orlando’s eyes got huge and he was afraid the guy was going to pummel Dom into the floor, but Elijah grabbed Dom’s arm and drug him away.

“Fuck, Dom. Can’t you fucking act like a normal human being and not some half-baked arsehole?” Billy said, voice shaking with anger. Orlando looked around and realized it was going to be a long night.

“Tosser thought he could just kick us out.” Dom stormed up on stage and yanked up his bass from the stand.

“Just calm the fuck down,” Billy snapped. “He doesn’t matter. Just play.” He pointed to the guitar in Dom’s hands as he picked up his own.

“Where are Sean and Viggo?” Elijah asked, settling behind the drum set. He picked up the sticks and twirled them around his fingers, dropping one to the stage. Orlando laughed as Elijah reached down and picked it up, blushing furiously. “Shut up, Orlando.”

“Didn’t say a word.” Orlando picked up his own guitar and strummed a few chords.

“They had to pick up Henry. He was coming with them,” Billy explained as he placed the strap over his shoulder.

Orlando always hated playing on any instrument but his own. He didn’t know why the label insisted on providing instruments. Theirs were fine. A little scuffed and worn, not to mention personalized – like Dom’s bass covered in stickers declaring his hatred towards mainstream, his love for geeks and trees, his obsession with The Beatles – but they got the job done. The guitar Orlando handled didn’t even feel as if it’d been played before.

The lady, who Orlando had overheard called Jo, walked on stage. “There’s no introduction. Just play a few songs. It’s really all for show. Two, three songs tops, then off the stage and mingle the rest of the night.” Jo tugged down the hem of her crisp grey suit down and left the stage.

“Wow, what a great gig this is.” Dom rolled his eyes.

“Fuck it, let’s just have fun,” Orlando said. Billy shot him a dubious glance. “I mean, who cares. No one is really listening to us. Look.” He pointed to the crowd, all talking amongst themselves with drinks in hand, paying no attention to the men on stage. “We just made a CD. Let’s rock out!” Orlando grinned widely, beginning to feel really excited. No sense in letting a bunch of stuffy arses ruin their fun. Besides, they were doing it for themselves anyway.

“Fuck yeah!” Elijah said, beating a rhythm out on the drums. Dom added a bass line and Orlando started a melody, and Billy smiled and stepped up to the mic.

They sang loudly and lively like they were in a room alone. Billy all but made love to the microphone, gripping it when he wasn’t playing riffs and chords and using it as much as a prop as anything else on stage. Orlando and Dom bounced up and down, jumping in time – and out of time – with the music. Dom played around the stage, not staying in one place but a few seconds. He stepped up on the platform Elijah’s drum kit was setting on a couple feet above the rest of the stage, facing him and playing as Elijah watched him. Dom stuck his tongue out and made funny faces at Elijah while Elijah laughed. Orlando watched them as he played and almost felt sad. Dom stayed there for almost an entire song before jumping back down and bouncing across the stage. He sidled up beside Billy and sang into the microphone with him.

It was the most fun they’d had singing together in months. And when it was over, Orlando wanted to continue playing forever.

*

Orlando thought he could get used to being a rock star, if only for the sheer amount of free alcohol alone. He was on his seventh, maybe eighth, beer, with a whole bunch more where that came from.

Orlando and Elijah sat at the bar, drinking and watching the crowd. A group of people turned the middle of the room into a makeshift dance floor and the lights were dimmed as music floated from speakers. Dom was sandwiched between two leggy, busty blondes and Elijah stared at him, seething. They weren’t sure where Billy was, disappeared with Viggo and Sean after the set, and Henry was sneaking free beer and dancing in a group.

Dom walked up to them, sweat rolling down his face and gathering at the collar of his shirt, and ordered a beer.

“Having fun?” Elijah snapped.

“A blast. You should try it sometime,” Dom replied smoothly.

“Where’s _Miranda_? I see she didn’t show up tonight.” At the mention of Miranda’s name, Dom gripped his bottle even tighter and glared at Elijah.

“None of your damn business.” He turned and stalked away. Thankfully, David walked up and Orlando was saved.

“Great party!” David said in his usual cheerful tone. “You guys were great.”

“Thanks,” Orlando said, handing David a beer. “Have a free beer.”

David lifted a bottle in his hand. “Got one.”

“Have another.” Orlando pushed it into David’s hand. David took it and glanced over at Elijah, sulking on his stool.

“You don’t look happy, Elijah.”

“He’s not. Maybe you can cheer him up. I really have to piss. You can have my seat.” Orlando stood up and stumbled, but caught his balance. He gestured towards his now empty stool. David sat down and started talking to Elijah as Orlando went searching of the bathroom.

When he came back out, he saw Billy talking to Viggo and Sean, so he stumbled over to them. He came up behind Billy, wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his cheek against his shoulder. He figured he should straighten his head since it was lying sideways, but for now it was okay like it was.

“Doing all right there, Orlando?” Viggo asked, small smile playing on his lips.

“I am now. I made David talk to Elijah. He was grumpy and I couldn’t handle it.” Orlando lifted his head and leaned it against Billy’s. “I wanna dance. Billy, dance with me.”

“I’m too drunk to dance, Orli.” Billy swayed a little on his feet, and Orlando tried to keep him from falling over.

“No, you’re not. Come on.” Orlando nudged Billy around and pushed him forward, arms still circling his waist. They walked into the crowd of people, saw Dom with a different set of girls, and Orlando dropped his arms, spinning Billy around so they were facing one another. Billy’s eyes were glazed and he smirked as Orlando slid his arms back around.

“Can we do this?” Billy asked, lips so close to Orlando’s. He could smell the alcohol on Billy’s hot breath ghosting across his skin.

“Do what?” he whispered, flattening his hands against the small of Billy’s back and pulling him closer, body pressed against his own.

“This. Dancing…like this.” Billy raised his arms, laced his fingers around Orlando’s neck. He leaned in, nose brushing Orlando’s cheek.

“Why couldn’t we?” Orlando bent his knees slightly, aligned his hips with Billy’s. They moved with the strong beat of the music, Orlando completely consumed with Billy so warm against him, so _real_ , faces hovering only breaths apart.

“We’re Valiant Effort. Not sure we can be seen dancing together in public.” Billy fingered the curls at the base of Orlando’s neck, and Orlando felt a sharp shiver go down his spine.

“Fuck everyone else.” They danced, gyrating back and forth, hips glued together as their faces stayed suspended in motion, close enough for little puffs of breath to cascade across damp skin.

The song ended and Orlando kept dancing, fingers kneading into the muscles of Billy’s back. Billy pulled away, dropped his arms from Orlando’s shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair and coughed.

“I think I need a beer.”

Orlando reluctantly let go and watched as Billy walked off the dance floor. He felt empty and cold, warmth yanked from him violently while he was left alone in the middle of a crowd of people. Head now significantly more sober, he pushed his way through the sea of bodies and walked towards the exit, needing air desperately.

“Leaving so soon?”

Orlando cringed at the mere sound of that voice.

_Bean._

 

“No, I just need some air. It’s rather hot.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he pushed through the large door and stepped onto the front stoop.

He inhaled sharply, cool night air entering his lungs. Sitting down on a concrete bench near a small flower bed, he ran a hand through his damp hair. The night felt like it was going on forever and would never end. Orlando just wanted to go home and sleep. Away from Billy. And Bean. And Dom and Elijah. Outside alone on the sidewalk of a random record execs that he was fucking’s mansion, Orlando decided he needed a break. But the likelihood of that happened was basically zero to none. So for right now, he’d enjoy being out here in the crisp night left to his own thoughts.

Just when he was ready to go find the guys, Sean flew out of the front door and down the drive. Orlando got up and jogged behind him, worried at the quick pace in which Sean was leaving.

“Sean!” Orlando came up beside him, but Sean didn’t slow down. “What’s wrong?”

“Not now, Orlando.” Sean stopped beside Viggo’s van and stuck the key in the lock. “Orlando, I’m not joking.”

“Neither am I. You look terrible.” Sean looked at him from the other side of the van. There were worry lines all around his eyes and he looked so tired. “I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t even know what’s going on.” Sean opened the door and reached across the seats, flipping the lock.

“Don’t care. You’re too upset to be alone.” Orlando crawled into the van as Sean started the engine. Sean was silent as he drove, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Orlando finally gathered up enough courage to speak. “Sean, wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Sean kept his eyes glued to the road. “My ex-girlfriend Christine called.”

“You had a girlfriend?”

“I did have a life before I met you, thank you very much,” Sean snapped.

“Sorry,” Orlando said meekly. “What happened?”

Sean sighed. “Christine was the love of my life. Or so I thought. I met her and immediately fell in love, told her we’d be married one day. And we were supposed to be, before I got my job in New York. I tried to convince her to move from California with me, wanted to get an apartment and build a life with her. You know, two point five kids, a dog, cat, white picket fence. But she didn’t want to leave her job in the casting agency she worked for and I didn’t want to stay in California. So we broke everything off and I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Oh.”

“She called earlier tonight and said she had something really important to tell me. I told her I had nothing to say to her, but she said if I didn’t come see her, she was going to come find me. Better to get whatever it is over with.”

Orlando settled back and studied Sean out of the corner of his eye. Sean was a strange guy, completely wrong to be the manager of a rock band, but he was just as much part of the group as the others. He did have a decent head for business and could talk his way into or out of anything, a skill Orlando never possessed. And he and Viggo quite possibly made the strangest couple he’s ever known, but they were also happier than any other two people he knew. Orlando had seen Sean upset a lot, he got frazzled way to easily to be in this business, but he’d never seen him like this. He was _scared_. Orlando was glad he came with him, whatever was going on.

They pulled up in front of a hotel in a bad neighborhood advertising nightly rates of $29.99. Orlando stayed in the front seat while Sean got out of the van.

“Are you staying here?” Sean asked, holding the door open.

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Sean didn’t move as Orlando sat uneasily. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Please.”

Orlando unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped out of the van. He followed Sean as they walked up a set of stairs, searching for room 231. Sean paused in front of it and knocked. An attractive woman with long, dark hair opened the door.

“Christine,” Sean said flatly. She cut her eyes over to Orlando.

“Who’s that? New boy toy?” Christine sniped.

“Friend. Are you gonna let us in?” Sean said impatiently. Christine moved away from the doorframe and disappeared into the dark motel room. Sean looked at Orlando and Orlando gave him a weak smile as some form of lame support. They entered the room.

Clothes littered the bed and chairs, bags lined the wall. Christine leaned over in a corner and lifted up a little baby, dressed in a pink dress with a pink bonnet. She crossed the room and stood in front of them, baby grabbing at Christine’s hair.

“Christine, when did you have a baby?” Sean asked slowly.

“This is Ali…Astin. Your daughter.”

Sean dropped to the bed, running a hand nervously over his face. “My daughter? It can’t be my daughter. I don’t have a baby. I can’t have a baby. I have a baby, what the fuck, Christine?” he shouted, looking up at her, hands wringing in his lap.

“I didn’t find out until a couple months after we broke up.” She extended her arms and put Ali in Sean’s lap. “Say hello to Daddy, honey.” Sean took the baby in his arms awkwardly, who immediately started screaming.

“Oh no, stop crying, please. Christine!” Sean held Ali up for Christine to take. She picked her up and bounced her softly.

“How do you even know this is Sean’s baby?” Orlando blurted out. Christine turned an icy stare on him, and he felt he just stepped over the line.

“Orlando, it’s okay. Ali’s just old enough that she would be mine. I guess I’ll get a paternity test just to make sure, but fucking hell, Christine. I’ve had a daughter and you _just_ decided to tell me?”

“I couldn’t find you. You moved to New York and didn’t leave a number or forwarding address. Then Ali was born and I was a little preoccupied.” Christine sat in a dinette chair and pulled a bottle from a bag, sticking it inside Ali’s little mouth.

“Why did you wait until ten o’clock on a Friday night to tell me this?” Sean sighed. “What do you want from me? Child support? What?”

“I want you to help me raise her. I don’t want all the responsibility, Sean. She’s your child, too.”

“But Christine! I work two jobs and have my own life and I can’t be a dad!” Sean panicked.

“I’m not leaving. I’m getting a place nearby and staying here.”

“What about your precious job at the casting agency?” Sean asked acidly.

“I left it as soon as I saved up enough money to come out here. I guess you got me here after all, didn’t you, Sean?” There was an uncomfortable silence in which Orlando studied the peeling paisley wallpaper. “You need to take Ali until I find a place suitable for living. I don’t want to keep her in a hotel until then.”

“God, no. I can’t do that. I have no babysitter; I work until midnight almost every night.” Sean shook his head frantically.

“It’s just for a week or two. Dammit, Sean, be a man and take care of your daughter.”

“Listen, can I sleep on all this and call you tomorrow? I’m tired, been up since five, and this is like a fucking bombshell. I can’t deal with this tonight.” Sean stood up and headed towards the door. Orlando gladly followed.

“Running out again, aren’t you, Sean? You’re a fucking coward. You’re going to help me raise this baby. I’m not doing it alone.” Christine vibrated with anger.

“Yes, Chris. You know I will. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

In the van, Sean stared at the steering wheel for Orlando didn’t know how long. He just stared, not moving or speaking. Orlando fidgeted uncomfortably.

“What am I going to do, Orlando?” Sean asked quietly. “What is Viggo going to say?”

“Oh Sean.” Orlando reached across the distance and pulled Sean into an embrace. He could feel him trembling in his arms. “Viggo will understand. He’s got a son.”

“I don’t want a baby, Orlando,” Sean whispered against his shirt. Orlando just held him, didn’t know what to say. He was shocked, floored really. This was the last thing he expected, well, ever.

“Come on. Let’s get home. You need to get some sleep.” Orlando pulled away and Sean nodded, cranked the van.

“Thank you. For coming with me I mean.” Sean smiled weakly.

“Don’t thank me. I’m just glad I was able to be here.” Orlando patted Sean softly on the arm as they pulled out of the parking place.

*

In the apartment, Billy sat in the oversized worn armchair, Orlando leaning against it on the floor, Dom and Elijah reclining close on the couch. It was four a.m., they were exhausted, and a mountain of junk food and water bottles littered the coffee table.

Dom was finishing telling a story about a mime he met on the subway a few days ago, hand resting on Elijah’s thigh, who was giggling insanely, while Billy laughed quietly. Orlando looked around at the four of them, together, talking, laughing together. This is the way it should be. Was. Before Dom and Elijah fell into a hopeless love they couldn’t handle, before he and Billy had to choose between each other and their dreams.

Would it ever be like this again? Elijah able to get over Dom, he able to get over Billy? Comfortable, easy camaraderie instead of repressed love and pain? Somewhere along the way it stopped being about friendship between them. Orlando knew they all grew into something different, became more to each other than mates who happened to work together. They were weaved together, in loyalty, support, and love. But he thought they had forgotten that above everything else they were, they were friends.

Orlando reached beside him and grabbed his bottle of water. “I propose a toast.” Dom and Elijah looked at him in confusion. “Pick up your bottles, you prats!”

Orlando scooted over so he could also see Billy, and Dom and Elijah moved to the edge of the couch.

“What are we toasting? The fact that we’re broke, overworked, wanna-be rock stars?” Billy asked sardonically.

“Friendship.” Orlando lifted his bottle.

“Orli, you’re such a sappy fucker.” Dom smiled as he raised his bottle. “To friendship!”

“To family!” Elijah added.

“To Valiant Effort.” Billy chimed.

“To the three best friends I’ve ever had.” Orlando clinked his bottle against the others, watching as Dom draped an arm around Elijah, pulling him close. Orlando smiled at Billy, who ruffled his hair and dropped a hand to his neck.

Orlando finally crawled into the chair, Billy shifting until they were both situated comfortably. Dom and Elijah were already passed out together on the couch, Dom’s hands resting over Elijah curled into his side.

 _This is definitely how it should be,_ he thought, drifting off.

~Fin  



End file.
